Passing Through

Part Twenty Three

Chapter Twenty Three

She lit up the room. His eyes had barely left her, despite trying to engage with some new sponsors that Oscar had wafted him in front of. She was sat with Coop's wife, and they were chuckling together, seeing her so natural was a genuinely attractive sight, but it had been the moment his eyes had found hers earlier that had really hit home with him. The look in her eyes, lust, desire, it was the hottest look he'd ever received and it had made him instantly hard...that was something that happened so frequently around Natasha.

Bo took a slug of his beer, not really concentrating on the two men in front of him, this was such a different part of the game to him. Back when he'd played in the NHL they barely encountered fans. There were more interviews, a lot more TV, sponsors, but he'd never been verbally pinned to the bar within an hour of the game ending, by some enthusiastic fans who apparently knew more about a game he'd played for almost twenty years, than he did after watching it for a few seasons. He didn't dislike fans, that was a huge part of the game, they are what sport was all about. Without them they'd be playing on spectator-less rinks, as a hobby. As it was, he'd had it all, everything that the sport had to offer. Whilst he hated that he wasn't there, living the high life that he was used to, there was something about the moment, playing well, having praise heaped on him along with advice, from such enthusiastic people...it was invigorating. And recognition for success, that was something he hadn't realised he craved.

Then he glanced to his right at that beautiful woman who he hadn't stopped thinking about all day, and that kind of topped off the moment.

As he said goodbye to Paul and Tony, having added a signature to the team shirts they wore, he was about to order another drink, when someone brushed against him.

Turning, he encountered a woman, tall, with long blonde hair. His first thought was how heavy her make up was, and he wasn't a fan of these drawn on thick eyebrows that some women seemed to favour.

"Hi," she purred. "You're Bo Holding?"

He nodded, "that's me."

He held out a hand to shake hers, trying to be polite, and preventing any thoughts of kissing his cheek.

"I'm Camilla Pascal." The name meant nothing to him, and he waited rather awkwardly to find out what she wanted. Because people always wanted something.

"I thought you were amazing tonight, especially in the last third of the game."

She fluttered her eyelashes, and it was then he realised that it was him that she wanted. Extremely awkward. He had no interest in anyone but the gorgeous woman with unruly auburn hair at the end of the bar. She was completely unaware of that though.

"So have you played ice hockey for long? I love it. So fast, and all that fighting." she shivered, a little too elaborately. "How you manage to hit that rubber puck thing..."

He started to zone out, she knew nothing about the game, knew nothing about him. He was so past this hook up shit. He wished that he could teleport anywhere but there.

Yet you hooked up with Natasha just the other week.

Not exactly true. They had talked, gone out...became a little bit more friendly. It hadn't been anywhere near a hook up.

Glancing over Camilla's shoulder, he met Natasha's eyes immediately, she was watching him, her face unreadable. He knew how this looked from a distance, he just hoped that he trusted her. If he could portray how much he wanted to be talking to her instead of this bottle blonde, in a single look, he gave it to her. And she smiled back, sexily.